Until I Met You

by Tari Faris

  “Who told you?”

  “Libby.”

  Of course. “She seems to talk a lot lately.”

  “The article wasn’t her. Well, the interview was, but most of that information he had on the business, our relationship, my involvement in pushing for you guys to get the job . . .” Nate looked at the truck, then back at Austin. “That came from us.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “I was looking at one of our security cameras because we were trying to find where a raccoon keeps getting in. Anyway, the reporter was standing in the foyer during our whole argument at church.”

  Austin searched his memory. “The guy in the lime-green pants.”

  “The very one.”

  Austin propped his elbows on his knees and dropped his head in his hands as the truth sank in. “I sure wrecked that.”

  Nate rested back on his elbows. “Go apologize.”

  He picked up a pebble and threw it at a knot in a nearby tree but missed. “She still didn’t believe me when it mattered.”

  “Did you believe her when she said she didn’t give the reporter information about the business?”

  Austin had picked up another stone but paused mid-throw. “But that’s—”

  “Different? Not really.” Nate grabbed a small rock and tossed it at the knot. Miss. “Why didn’t you ever tell her about Becky?”

  “I don’t know. I guess I hated the fact it took me so long to see who Becky was. I feel like a fool when I talk about her. I . . . didn’t want Libby to see me like that.”

  “But you’ve changed.”

  “Have I?” Austin picked up another pebble and rolled it over in his fingers.

  “Did you let Becky manipulate you into taking her back?”

  “No. I asked her for the ring back.”

  “And?”

  “And when she realized she couldn’t control me anymore, she took off.” He lobbed the smooth pebble toward the knot but was way off. “But she left the ring. I can sell that at least.”

  “See, you are not the same Austin. Now stop feeling sorry for yourself and go apologize to Libby.”

  “Why would she forgive me?” Another toss. Another miss.

  “Because she loves you. And when you love someone, you have to decide if that relationship is worth more than the self-righteous feeling of holding something over their head.” Nate tossed another pebble and hit the knot.

  Austin rubbed the back of his neck. “Are you talking about Libby or me?”

  “I’m sorry. I wasn’t going to go there. I just . . .” Nate stood and paced a few feet away, then turned back. “I’m going to say my piece, then I’ll never bring it up again.”

  “Okay.”

  “God has put several solid friendships in my life. Grant, Luke, and Thomas have been there for me over and over. These guys have become like brothers to me. But they’re not my brother.” His voice hitched. “You are.” He kicked the ground and locked eyes with Austin. “But I’m letting go of my mistakes. I love you, but I can’t surround myself with people who are only reminding me of who I was.”

  “What are you saying?”

  “You’re my brother. You were my first best friend, and I still want to have that type of relationship with you. I love you. I think both of us know that little speech you gave in the church wasn’t forgiveness. And if you can’t forgive me, I can’t do this”—Nate pointed between them—“anymore.”

  Austin had lost Libby, his business, and now his brother. He was batting a thousand today. At this rate he’d be left alone. Did he really want to be that person?

  He rested his elbows on his knees and dropped his head in his hands. “Even if I want to forgive you, I don’t think I can. It’s like it’s become part of who I am.”

  “Sin has a way of doing that.”

  The word settled like a punch to his sternum. Sin?

  Nate shoved his hands in his pockets and shrugged. “The Bible is pretty clear about forgiving one another.”

  He’d never really thought about it that way. In his mind, it was between him and Nate alone. But maybe the unforgiveness had seeped into every part of who he’d become. It stood between him and his dad, between him and Libby. Even between him and God.

  “I’ve been angry at you for so long, I’m not sure how to stop.”

  Nate sat next to him on the step again. “You forgive me today. And when you wake up tomorrow you may have to forgive me all over again. And the next day, and the next. Until one day you’ll realize that it’s just gone.”

  “How do you know so much about this?” Austin picked up another pebble and tumbled it between his hands.

  “Because for years I’ve been trying to forgive myself.”

  Austin dropped the rock and picked up another. He ran his thumb over the smooth surface. “And now?”

  “Today was the first day I didn’t have to do that.” Nate’s voice held a lighter tone than usual.

  “What happened?”

  “I finally ditched the grave clothes.”

  “What?”

  Nate patted him on the back. “I’ll explain that later. What I need to know now is where do we stand? When I get on my motorcycle, is it going to be ‘see you later’ or ‘goodbye’? Your choice.”

  What did he want? Part of him still wanted to be right, but more than that, he wanted his brother back. He wanted to let go of all this anger he’d held for so long. “I can’t promise we won’t ever fight again.”

  Nate grinned as he leaned forward on his elbows. “I’m not sure I’d believe you if you did.”

  Austin whipped the pebble at the knot and hit it solid. “But I choose today to forgive you.”

  And like a snap, the words freed something in him. The weight of self-righteousness that had been so heavy for so long was gone.

  His brother’s eyes, red with emotion, were fixed on the ground as his fists tapped the step beside him. “Thank you.”

  They had a long way back, but they were both on the road. And from here the road didn’t look as long as it once did.

  “What are you going to do about Libby?” Nate wiped away a single tear with his thumb and looked up at him.

  “What can I do?” Austin stretched his legs out in front of him as he leaned back.

  Nate stood and zipped his leather jacket. “You can go to her and apologize. Beg her forgiveness.”

  Beg? Austin had never begged in his life. The idea sent a chill through him. But the idea of a life without Libby left him cold to the bones. “What if she doesn’t forgive me?”

  “Trap her in a small town until she does.” Nate lifted his helmet from the step. “That’s how I got you to forgive me.”

  “Funny.”

  Nate walked to his motorcycle, flipped his helmet over, and pulled out the straps. “She may forgive you and she may not, but you won’t know unless you ask.”

  Austin pushed off the steps and eyed Libby’s house. “I don’t even know where she is. She hasn’t been home—”

  “She’s at the Mathews farm.”

  “Where?”

  “Olivia’s parents. They’re having a fall party.” Nate fastened his helmet and straddled the motorcycle. “I was headed there when I saw you sitting here.”

  Austin shoved his hands in his pockets but came up empty. He didn’t have keys. He didn’t have a truck. “I don’t have a way to get there.”

  “I only have my motorcycle, and I’m not riding double with you. I love you, man, but no.” Nate secured the strap and started the engine.

  Austin searched his mind but came up empty. He needed wheels. Libby’s pink bike with the flower basket and bell leaned against the side of her house. He pulled out his phone and opened a map. “I have a way. What’s the address?”

  nineteen

  Why had she agreed to do this? Libby sat on the back bumper of her car and drew in a slow breath. In through the nose, out through the mouth. In. Out. She leaned back. The sky was streaked with orange and pink from
the setting sun. She pulled her coat a bit tighter as the evening shadows stole what little warmth there had been. Then again, she’d been chilled standing next to the four-foot bonfire five minutes ago, so maybe this chill had less to do with the weather and more to do with the idea of taking the stage again.

  Karaoke had sounded a lot better when she was still riding the adrenaline rush of convincing Nate to stay. Now that it was two songs away . . .

  Her phone buzzed and she scanned the text.

  Olivia

  We’re up soon. Where did you go?

  Not helping.

  Purple spots floated across her vision. Please, Lord, I can’t pass out. She picked up one of the paper bags lining the driveway that had a jack-o’-lantern face drawn on it and a candle inside. She blew out the candle, dumped the rock on the ground, and held the bag up to her mouth.

  In. Out. In. Out.

  She returned again to her spot on the bumper and breathed into the bag a few more times. The faint ringing in her ears competed with the music from the party.

  Libby closed her eyes and breathed into the bag again. In. Out.

  When she opened them, Austin was riding toward her on her pink bike.

  First the spots in her vision, then the ringing in her ears, and now she’d tipped over into hallucinations. Her subconscious had chosen the two places she found safe and merged them into a ridiculous picture to deal with this stress. She should lie down. Or maybe she’d already passed out.

  Austin stopped the bike right in front of her and jumped off. “Libby, are you okay? You don’t look so good.”

  She blinked at the man in front of her. He didn’t disappear, but he looked at her with such intense emotion she had to be dreaming. When his hand gently brushed her shoulder, she jumped. “You’re real?”

  “Yes, I’m real.” Austin dropped the kickstand and climbed off the bike. His eyes traveled over her as he seemed to be evaluating her health. “Are you okay?”

  “You rode my bike.” She was breathing a bit better now.

  “I’d have bought a bigger one if I’d known we’d have to share it.” He took the bag from her hand, then brushed her hair back from her face. “Do you want me to go get you some water?”

  “You said you’d have to sacrifice your dignity to ride it.” She stood up straight. If she’d realized it wasn’t a hallucination, she might have taken a photo.

  “I’m pretty sure I did, if all the honks and waves I got on the way here were any indication.” He pressed his palm to her forehead. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

  His touch didn’t do anything to slow her pulse. Her breathing sped up again. She drew in a slow breath through her nose as she took a step back. She couldn’t open her heart up to him like that again. “Why are you here?”

  He shifted from one foot to the other and back. “I came to see you.”

  Maybe she was hallucinating after all. Austin had made it pretty clear that he didn’t want anything to do with her ever again.

  “First to beg your forgiveness.” He took another step toward her and lifted her hand in his, his hold gentle but firm. Warmth traveled up her arm as his thumb ran back and forth across her knuckles. “I was way out of line when I yelled at you. All of the information the reporter got about the business wasn’t your fault. It was mine. And even if it had been your doing, I had no business treating someone I loved that way.”

  Her knees weakened and she leaned back against the car.

  “You love me?” She might need that paper bag again.

  “Until I met you, I didn’t think I could ever love again—trust again. Then you taught me what real love looks like.” He tucked a piece of hair behind her ear. “But if it’s too soon or if you feel that you can’t forgive me—”

  Libby gripped him by the back of the neck and pulled him to her lips, pouring all of the emotion and passion that had been building over the past few days into the kiss. Then Austin took control, sliding both hands to the back of her neck and slowing the kiss down as if he wanted to capture and remember everything about this moment. His thumbs traced both sides of her jaw as he took his time.

  Each tender placement of his lips was an apology for the past and a promise for the future. There was a lightness and freedom in him she hadn’t detected before. She’d have to ask him about that . . . later. Now she was just going to soak in each tender touch of his hands and the way his soft lips made her skin hum with desire.

  “Libby?” Olivia’s footsteps crunched on the gravel driveway. “Oh, hi, Austin.”

  Austin pulled back and offered a small wave. “Hey.”

  Libby buried her face in the front of his shirt, trying to pull herself back to earth. His musky scent surrounded her as his chest shook with a small laugh.

  He entwined his fingers with hers. “I think Olivia has seen people kiss before.”

  “Done it a few times myself, actually.” Olivia held up two cowboy hats. “We’re up next. Do you still want to do this?”

  Austin glanced between them. “Do what?”

  Right—karaoke.

  The crumpled jack-o’-lantern paper bag mocked her as the unsettling desire to hide flooded her again. She drank in Austin’s smile, his words from before coming back. “Like you said, sometimes all you need is twenty seconds of insane courage or embarrassing bravery for something great to happen. It’s time to channel my inner Pepper Potts.”

  “I’m pretty sure the guy from We Bought a Zoo said it, but I’ll take it.”

  She stepped away from Austin without dropping his hand, picked up the bag from the ground, and shoved it in the basket of the bike. “I’m ready.” She squeezed Austin’s hand and dragged him behind her. He tugged her back just long enough to drop a kiss below her right ear. His spot. Yes, she was ready for this.

  She dropped his hand as they wound their way through the small crowd toward the stage where seven-year-old Trinity belted out the words to “The Gambler.” Most of the guests sat on bales of hay under the lights and Japanese lanterns that crisscrossed from the stage to the barn.

  She passed Danielle, who was sitting next to Gideon. On his other side, a pretty little blonde with a little too much makeup for Libby’s taste kept leaning over, whispering in Gideon’s ear. Libby offered Danielle a half smile and mouthed, “Hang in there.”

  The song ended just before Olivia yanked Libby’s hand and pulled her up on stage. Great, not only did she have to face her fear, but she had to follow the most adorable act of the night. Olivia shoved a mic in her hand and dropped the cowboy hat on her head. Twenty seconds of insane courage or embarrassing bravery. This was definitely the latter. Sure, she’d sung in the shower many times, and she sang at church when everyone else did, but she’d never sung in front of an audience.

  The music started, but it was the wrong song. She didn’t even know this song. Her head whipped around to Olivia, but the girl didn’t even seem rattled. She just held up her finger and ran off the stage toward the DJ.

  Libby looked out at the crowd and tried to swallow against her dry throat. The muscles in her knees quivered as fifty pairs of eyes stared back. Slowly they began to talk among themselves and she drew a slow breath.

  Ted, who was sitting down front, sauntered to the stage. “How about that date later?”

  Before she could even think of a response, Austin dropped a hand on his shoulder. “She’s with me.”

  Ted glanced between them, then took a step back.

  Austin motioned her closer, and she leaned down to hear him.

  He placed a kiss on her lips and winked. “Knock them dead, Pepper Potts.”

  Her legs stopped shaking and suddenly she was ready. To sing. To be on stage. To face whatever came at her.

  Today was it. Libby lifted a large pair of scissors and, with the help of the mayor, cut the red ribbon that stretched across the library steps. As the pieces drifted down, applause filled the square and children scampered up the steps. Libby bit her lip to hold back the tears.


  The library was open, and it couldn’t be a better day for it. The maple trees across Second Street and Richard Street were all at peak color. And the temperature was just cool enough to enjoy the cider and donuts she’d prepared, but not so cold she’d need to keep the door shut.

  Libby made her way down the steps to where Austin and his dad waited next to Otis.

  “What do you think, Dad?” Austin patted his father gently on the back.

  “I think this is a strange place to put a statue of a hippo.” He eyed the brass statue and scanned the area. “Seems in the way here.”

  “I didn’t put him here. Otis . . .” Austin glanced at Libby, but she just shrugged. “Moves on his own.”

  His dad lifted an eyebrow. “The room next to mine opened up if you ever want to join me at the care home.”

  “Very funny. What do you think of the square?”

  “Amazing. Those flowers are just beautiful.” He pointed to the pots filling the steps of the gazebo.

  “They’re from Austin’s own greenhouse.” Libby touched Austin’s arm. “The freshly planted ones won’t bloom until spring, so we thought the gazebo needed some extra color today. Did he tell you he’s opening an heirloom greenhouse right here in Heritage?”

  “Yes, he did.” His dad stood and patted Austin on the back. “Now I need to go check out the inside of the library. I hear both my boys worked hard on that.”

  “We’ll catch up with you in a minute, Dad.” Austin pulled Libby closer and pointed east of the square. “Did I tell you I’m looking at buying the land this library was on to set up a nursery?”

  “I think that sounds just like what Heritage needs,” Hannah said as she walked up.

  Luke trailed a few feet behind with Joseph in his arms. The baby was still tiny but alert. Luke held him over Otis, his small booties skimming the brass back. “His first slide down Otis. A Heritage rite of passage. What do you say, little man—are you ready for a back flip off his nose?”

  “I think he’s a little young for acrobatics.” Hannah rolled her eyes and shifted the diaper bag to her other shoulder. “Maybe wait until he can hold his head up properly.”